June is for Beginning
Ahh, summertime, when newly graduated university students decide what they now want to do with their lives. I was once that newly graduated student with a design portfolio in hand (literally IN MY HAND, not a file in an email. A heavy black portfolio box with a handle and clasps and inside were heavy black matte boards with perfectly cut images of my portfolio which had been painstakingly spray-glued down), wondering where I wanted to go and start my career.
The logical place to begin was Boston because I had grown up in a suburb nearby. The illogical place to dream about was San Diego because the beach and it's 82 degrees there year-round. The "it's not for me, thanks" place was New York City because I had a lot of friends moving there and it wasn't that far away, but I looked at it as a fun city to visit and that was it. Unfortunately, the latter was the only one of the three where I was getting any interviews.
Every other month I'd take my heavy portfolio down to New York and have some interviews, stay with my friends in Hoboken and then head back to Boston in hopes of getting "real" interviews in Massachusetts while waitressing at a local restaurant and wondering if I'd be serving mediocre pasta forever. However, one of these trips changed my New York mindset.
A busy day was planned in Manhattan with three 'informational interviews' (agencies being kind enough to talk to me, look at my work, but both of us knowing that there was no position on offer at the moment) back-to-back. It was summer and it was NYC-hot so in an effort to not get lost on the subway or arrive at my second interview sweating buckets (remember, I'm wearing an "interview" blazer and carrying a VERY HEAVY portfolio case) I decided to take a cab. Because I didn't live here yet and didn't know you tell cab drivers cross-streets for directions (ie. "I'm going to 19th between 5th and 6th"), I gave the cabbie the exact address I was going to (ie. "59 West 19th Street").
I got out of the car with twenty minutes to spare and popped into the cafe across the street from the design agency. I picked a juice out of their fridge, got to the front of the line, paid, and was about to find a seat when I noticed my portfolio wasn't with me. I circled back to the fridge – it wasn't there. I went back to the cashier – it wasn't there. I walked eighteen circles around this tiny cafe, found no portfolio, sat down at a table with my juice and began to sob loudly.
My entire future was inside of that portfolio. Can I remind you that this was the early 2000s. There were no emailable PDFs yet. No digital work shared around. No one had their own portfolio website online. The amount of time and money I had spent on this portfolio already was madness and now I was going to have to do it all over again. And I couldn't even get another interview until that was done – if you're a designer with no work to show, you're not interviewable.
Sitting near me were a very nice couple who noticed my crying and asked what was wrong. I told them the issue and that I was supposed to go to this interview RIGHT NOW and had no work to show at all. They encouraged me to still go and explain what had happened. They wished me luck and said that it would be okay. With the kindness and support of these strangers, I left the cafe, crossed the street, mustered up all the will not to cry and rang the buzzer at the design agency for my interview. I traveled up four floors in a big elevator and when I got out, the owner said "Nice to meet you, Jennifer!" and I cried "I'm so sorry! I've lost my portfolio!" and proceeded to start sobbing again. This owner and another member of his agency then asked if I'd like some water, and if I'd still like to sit and chat while they told me about their work and agency. I said sure, tried to keep it together, listened to them, asked some questions and gave up worrying about my portfolio (for a little bit).
Then there was a buzz from the intercom downstairs. One of the people I was chatting with left to get it and came back and said "there is a cab driver downstairs, he says he has your box!". Well, dear readers, I RAN down four flights of stairs, saw the cab driver with my portfolio and lunged at him for a giant hug. He said he had noticed I left the portfolio so drove back to that exact address I had given him (sometimes it pays to be naive in a new city!). He rang every bell in the building until he found me.
I brought the portfolio back upstairs to the agency where they were so happy for me, and I took a deep breath and shared my work. I knew there was still no job on offer there but it didn't matter. That day changed my perspective of New York City forever. I had met selflessly kind individuals who had taken the time to look out for a total stranger. I knew I could live here. And so a few months later, found an apartment in Hoboken and a month after that found my first design job. And there my story began.
